


A Deathless Death

by 4RU



Category: Borderlands
Genre: F/F, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:04:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4RU/pseuds/4RU
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's vulnerable.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Deathless Death

She’s vulnerable. More vulnerable than she has ever been before that she can remember. Her back is pressed flat to the mattress, her hands bound against the headboard, and fuck she should be panicking, should be fighting her way out.

Except, except she can’t. She can’t breathe, can’t think. She’s sweating from head to toe, eyes squeezed shut, toes curling in the sheets, fingers clenching against the cuffs keeping her securely in place. Nothing fills her mind but please, her mouth open and chorusing a sweet tune of-

_“Janey! Janey, Janey-“_

Love. Sweet and gentle and hot and passionate. It spills from her lips, her tongue, a beautiful betrayal of anything and everything she’s ever known in all her years. She cries it to the ceiling with each gasping breath, each arch of her sinuous body.

In kind she is answered. Calloused fingers hold her quivering thighs, kisses touching her in the most intimate of places, the glide of her damp calves over scarred skin. Athena, says each tempting lick, says each sinfully sweet kiss. You’re okay. I have you. You’re safe.

Silent words. Soothing words. Gentle words. A declaration. A promise. She feels tears stinging at her eyes and the emotion is overwhelming.

It feels like an eternity. An eternity of countless deaths, so agonizingly wonderful as they wrack her body and soul. And on that dingy little mattress she comes undone with a final sobbing plea, pleasure and exhaustion settling over her like a heavy blanket.

The handcuffs click off not a moment after, her arms met with a series of thorough caresses to encourage blood-flow before they are negotiated carefully to her sides. She doesn’t open her eyes, lips askew as she slowly eases back into her own body. Deep breaths. Slow breaths. One, two. Inhale, exhale.

Lips touch her forehead, and when Janey asks if she is alright she finds she barely has the strength to murmur a gentle “yes” in answer. She can’t recall a time when she’s ever felt better.


End file.
